My Highland Love: Highland Lords Series (26 page)

Her lips thinned. "You deny it?"

"If I led you to believe I was of noble class
but wasn't, you would have reason to be angry. The fact I am of the
noble caste is of no consequence. Have you ever heard anyone here
address me by my title?"

Her mouth tightened further. "You kept it
from me."

"You are saying I instructed all of Brahan
Seer to deceive you? How could I possibly accomplish such a thing?
The fact that you learned about this before we signed the marriage
certificate proves my point."

"The marriage certificate?" Elise repeated,
then, as though to herself, said, "Of course, we would sign a
marriage certificate."

"It doesn't matter," he insisted. "Especially
here."

She canted her head. "And when we leave
Brahan Seer? Isn't that the reason we are doing this because you
insisted we cannot leave Brahan Seer without being married?"

"Aye," he replied. "We cannot travel the
country and live as we do here. Expectations are different outside
Brahan Seer."

"Yes, they are," she retorted. "To the extent
you are to be a duke!"

"You aren't being honest," he continued,
forcing back frustration. "Admit it. Had you known in the
beginning, you wouldn't have agreed to marry me because of my
station."

"So you did lie."

"I did not."

"Father," she said, keeping her gaze on
Marcus, "isn't the sin of omission the same as a direct lie?"

The priest took a deep breath. "It is."

"Are you saying you won't marry me because I
will one day be a duke?" Marcus demanded.

"I am saying, I will not marry a man I cannot
trust."

"Bloody hell," he cursed. "After all the
years the MacGregors have fought for their good fortune, to have it
turned against us—"

Her eyes flashed. "Make no mistake, Lord
Ashlund, it isn't the MacGregors's good fortune I hold against
you."

"It is," he cut in sharply. "If I were
Michael's son instead of Cameron's, you would view my suit as
proper."

"That is not the point—"

"It is exactly the point. With anyone else I
would not have had to say,
You do realize I am a marquess?
Yet, you say that is exactly what I should have done."

"You knew
not
telling me was a
manipulation."

"How am I to answer?" he snapped. "Had I made
a point of telling you, you would have balked. Yet, not telling you
is a grievous sin."

Elise eyed him critically. "When did you plan
to tell me? Once we arrived in civilization and someone bowed
before you?"

"Nay, as I just said, when you signed the
wedding certificate you would have known."

"And when would that have been, the moment
before we took the wedding vows?"

Marcus looked at Father Whyte. "When,
Father?"

"Tomorrow."

Marcus looked back at her. "A far cry from
the wedding day."

"But far too long considering the length of
our courtship."

"You're being foolish." He grasped her
arm.

She shook him off. "How did you expect me to
react?"

He wished mightily Father Whyte weren't
present. "I had hoped some feeling had developed that would negate
these foolish concerns."

"I need to be alone with my
foolish
concerns
." She brushed past him.

Marcus glanced at Father Whyte, who gave him
a troubled look, then Marcus shifted his gaze onto Elise as she
disappeared out the chapel doors.

* * * *

Elise closed her bedchamber door, then walked
to the couch and sat down. Placing a hand on her belly, she pressed
it in an attempt to quiet the twisting, which had begun as a
flutter and was now a wrenching unlike anything she had experienced
since the last night on the Amelia.

Elise Merriwether would be the name of the
woman to marry the Marquess of Ashlund. It was foolish for her to
have given her great-aunt's surname, but when she'd come out of her
delirium in Josh and Shannon's home, she'd given the first name
that came to mind. Would Price connect that Elise Merriwether to
her? Her mind raced. Would he see the notice? The announcement
would go into the London
Sunday Times
, probably
The
Scotsman
in Edinburgh, as well. But would the news reach
America? She thought of the Boston papers and recalled the news
when King George III died and his son took his place. Occasionally,
large business ventures were reported, but she couldn't recall any
marriage announcements for the nobility.

Elise released a shaky breath. It was
unlikely the announcement would make the American papers. She
leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. Looking back,
it now seemed ridiculous she hadn't realized there was more to the
MacGregor men than mere wealth. She had missed all of the warning
signs. How had she been so blind?

"Oh, Marcus," she whispered. "What have you
done?"

A duke can protect even a murderess
,
her mind contended. Her insides gave a vicious twist. He could, she
agreed. But could his reputation survive the scandal? And could she
live with herself for hurting him?

First thing tomorrow morning, she would go to
Cameron and demand to leave.

* * * *

At the sound of voices in the great hall,
Elise paused on the stairs. Who would be roused at this early hour?
It wasn't yet dawn.

"I know what ye told me," a young male voice
said.

Tavis.

"Aye," came another, deeper voice.

Marcus.

"I'm willing to take my punishment, laird,"
Tavis said.

Elise didn't breathe.

"I told you not to leave Brahan Seer again,"
Marcus said. "You are a man—the only man in your household. You're
old enough to understand that responsibility."

Elise crept down the remaining four stairs
and peeked around the corner. They stood on the far side of the
table nearest the postern door, Marcus's hand on Tavis's shoulder,
Tavis's gaze downcast. The worry on Marcus's face stirred something
deep within her. The day the Campbells attacked, he had been
ruthless. But this was a gentleness as kind as his ruthlessness had
been cruel.

"The thirst for revenge will eat a man
alive," he said. "I swore to deal with your father's murderers, and
did. Leave it be." He sighed, the action revealing a great
weariness. "If those dogs came for you, even with a warrant from
King George, I wouldn't give you up." A tiny smile played at his
mouth. "Lad, we aren't as different from the Campbells as we
believe. They were as unwilling to hand over their kinsmen as I
would be."

Elise couldn't check a surge of hope. He
would not give up one of his own—even in the name of justice?

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. "I
have no intention of facing your mother with the news that you have
followed your father to the grave. Therefore, you go to
London."

Tavis gasped.

"Nay," Marcus said. "You will have no more
opportunities to go wandering off by yourself." He raised a brow.
"You know your sister follows."

"I made sure she did not," the boy
protested.

Marcus laughed. "Never underestimate a
female, no matter her age."

"Laird," Tavis begged, "I promise—"

"Nay," Marcus said shortly.

"Not London then, but Edinburgh."

Another laugh from Marcus, this one tinged
with fondness. "London it will be, lad. Edinburgh is too close for
comfort."

"Laird," Tavis said, desperation in his
voice.

The mirth in Marcus's eyes faded. "Erin will
accompany you to England."

Elise felt her breath quicken. A decree she
would have made had she the power. Realization washed over her in a
tidal wave. If she confessed the truth, Marcus would sail across
the ocean and kill Price with his bare hands. If she disappeared,
he would leave no stone unturned until he found her. If she told
him she would not marry a duke, he would follow her to the ends of
the earth in order to change her mind.

God help him, he loved her.

And God help her, she wouldn't sacrifice him…
not even for Amelia and Steven.

* * * *

Marcus entered the great hall the following
afternoon to discover the room filled with people and humming with
unexpected excitement. He scanned the familiar entourage until his
gaze settled on his cousin Sophie and, to his surprise, Elise, who
looked as though she hadn't a care in the world. The two women
stood, profiles to him, and neither had noticed his entrance. He
hung back near the door, watching.

He hadn't spoken with Elise since she left
him standing in the abbey the night before. He had gone to her room
early this morning and found her bed empty. She had slept there,
however, a fact he had verified in the dead of night. His search
that morning didn't turn her up in the kitchen or the ladies'
drawing room. Even his library, a favorite haunt, had been empty.
The kitchen maids informed him she and Winnie had gone to visit
Chloe.

Marcus studied Elise. What had transpired
after she'd sequestered herself in her room? What other ridiculous
considerations surfaced during those waking hours? She hadn't
sought him out to inform him there would be no wedding. Neither had
she confirmed there would be a wedding. No note, no message,
nothing.

He shifted his attention to his cousin.
Sophie, Lady Whycham, was one of the few Ashlund relatives he
liked. Though petite, her flaming red hair and voluptuous body had
made her all the rage before she wed Justin Ellington, the Earl of
Whycham.

She caught sight of him, ceased speaking, and
raised a meticulously plucked brow. Elise turned, and he started
toward them.

"Sophie," he said as he neared. "What brings
you here, lass?"

"Don't play the innocent with me, Marcus
MacGregor. You know full well I would not let my favorite cousin
wed without me." The keen curiosity in her gaze vanished and her
eyes narrowed in a fashion that Marcus knew well. "I am wondering,
Cousin," she said, "why it is I read of your engagement in the
newspapers instead of hearing it from you."

Marcus looked at Elise, whose impassive
expression didn't quite hide the sense that she, too, wondered the
same thing.

He slid an arm around Elise. She stiffened.
The small hope inside him sagged, but he kept his gaze on her.
"When last I visited Ashlund, I had no notion I would marry."

"No?" Sophie said, bringing both their
attentions onto her. "Still, you could have sent a personal
missive."

He again felt Elise's thoughts echo the
question, and he looked down at her. "Forgive me, Sophie," he said,
and smiled gently at Elise. "Since Elise agreed to be my wife, I
have thought of little else."

"Not so, Cousin," Sophie replied. "You didn't
forget the formal announcements."

Marcus shot his cousin a sharp look.

Sophie groaned. "Elise, are you sure you will
be able to put up with him for the rest of your life?"

Marcus started. He cursed silently at Sophie,
then his future wife when her expression remained unreadable save a
hint of curiosity.

"Everyone is speculating about the woman who
has captured Marcus's heart," Sophie went on.

"Good Lord," Elise blurted

Sophie laughed. "Didn't you know, my dear?
Marcus is a confirmed bachelor."

Marcus stilled as Elise looked directly at
him for the first time. "Really? I wouldn't have believed it."

"Why is that?" Sophie asked, the eagerness in
her voice so transparent that Marcus wanted to thrash her.

"Because your cousin pursued me with such a
vengeance that I would have thought he was desperate for a
wife."

Sophie burst into howls of laughter, and his
desire to laugh with her forced him to cough loudly several
times.

"Does this," he began, but halted abruptly to
clear his throat before saying, "Does this mean—"

"This means, sir," Elise cut in, "you should
attend to your guests."

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it
again.

* * * *

Elise opened the door to the library and
stepped aside. "Forgive me, Lady Whycham. I hadn't expected
company, so the ladies' drawing room isn't ready to receive
guests."

"Call me Sophie." She brushed past Elise. "We
shall soon be related. No need to stand on formality. Now," Sophie
seated herself on the divan and waited until Elise had taken a seat
beside her, "tell me what my cousin has done to annoy you."

Elise startled but managed a hasty, "I'm not
sure what you mean."

Sophie's eyes twinkled. "I know my cousin."
She laughed, a small snort escaping in the process. "Still, he did
surprise me with the decision to wed again." She leaned close.
"Marcus had formed no lasting attachments since Jenna's death.
Though he is no womanizer—he is a remarkably discriminating man—he
isn't one to refrain from female company."

"I didn't have the impression he denied
himself the company of women," Elise said dryly.

Sophie's eyes widened with mirth and she
clapped a hand over her mouth. Elise blinked, then gave into the
infectious laughter.

Sophie lowered her hand. "All right,
Cousin
, what has he done?"

Elise hesitated. How did she explain that
Marcus hiding the fact he was a rich and powerful man could prove
to be his and her undoing?

When Elise had finished relating the tale of
how she had come to Scotland and of Marcus's deception, Sophie took
a deep breath. "I suppose learning the man you're to marry will one
day be a duke could be a shock. But the fact he cares for you—"
Sophie halted, and Elise knew her shock showed.

"You doubt his feelings?" Sophie asked.

She didn't, but she hadn't grown used to the
idea, and the fact Sophie had so easily seen it made her want to
cry. So, she countered with, "How can any woman know what a man
thinks?"